The Missing Scarf
by Kaiser Washington
Summary: Byakuya lives his worst nightmare when he realizes that his scarf has gone missing - rather, that some devious soul has stolen it. One-shot. Re-uploaded.


The skies were all clear and cloudless, the weather was clement, and the sun shone brightly over the Soul Society. The children of the Rukongai played around like there was no tomorrow, and the Soul Reapers of the Seireitei worked with vim for a change. Unfortunately, though, this happiness didn't extend to the Sixth Squad, on which a most terrible misfortune had descended: Captain Kuchiki had lost his scarf. This spelled doom for all his subordinates, starting, of course, with the noble captain's loyal—occasionally cocky, but still loyal—lieutenant, Renji, who was presently cowering under his captain's overbearing glare, and going into incoherencies as he tried repeatedly (and failed) to come up with an explanation for a crime he had never committed.

"B-but Captain," he stammered, but was once again cut off by Byakuya.

"Yes, Renji?" he said, and the redhead didn't fail to miss the underlying tone of sarcasm in his superior's voice. Byakuya, though still superficially as stoic as ever, was filled with what was undoubtedly hot boiling magma that could spew in torrents unless care was taken.

"Renji," Byakuya repeated, his voice reaching a low bass that made the hairs on the back of Renji's neck stand on end.

"Yes, Captain?" said Renji in a high treble that could make a girl laugh as he struggled to keep his knees, which were shaking like the last loose pebbles on an overflowing dam, under control.

"I'll ask you one last time," said Byakuya, and his tone was appropriately ominous, "What. Have. You. Done. With. My. Scarf."

The numerous beads of sweat that had formed on Renji's forehead now started streaming down his face and onto his uniform as Byakuya narrowed his eyes into slits.

"Well?"

Renji began to slide down the wall against which he was cowering as his legs gave away.

Byakuya's hand was presently making its way toward Senbonzakura's hilt in what appeared to Renji as slow motion.

Renji began to sob.

"Please!" he wailed. "I swear I don't know anything about it! Please, Captain Kuchiki…!" He covered his face with his arms for self-defense.

"Hmpf," Byakuya said, and much to Renji's surprise, turned around and made his way back to his seat. "Get out of my sight. _Now._" The last thing he wanted was for everyone to think he was sexually harassing his lieutenant.

Renji didn't need telling twice. Using a flash step that would have impressed even Yoruichi, he was gone.

Byakuya sat down in his chair, rested his elbows on the desk, and began massaging his temples, clearly vexed.

_I know it's him, _he said to himself with immense conviction. _Renji's the only one who has the means._

He got up and strode over to the bookcase. He pulled out all the books from one shelf in particular with an air of purpose to reveal a mirror. Glancing into it, he realized how odd he looked without his scarf.

That scarf… It wasn't only the fact that it cost a fortune that he was concerned about. That scarf was his identity, a symbol of his pride, the only thing that gave the monochromatic captain's uniform color, a testament to his undying vanity. And with it gone…

Byakuya shuddered to think what people would say about him.

It wasn't as though they'd be seeing him without his scarf for the first time: he had given it to his lieutenant during the whole Rukia-Kuchiki's-Execution scandal. Renji had returned it soon, of course, but Byakuya had still had this event up his sleeve as a perfectly valid explanation for not wearing his scarf when everyone had questioned him about it while awaiting the execution.

This time was different, though, since there was neither an upheaval of any sort, nor a battle against a strong foe that he had recently been through. People would (Byakuya swallowed) begin talking about him, and that was the last thing he wanted: becoming the subject of the Soul Society's idle gossip.

No. Something had to be done.

Byakuya replaced the books on the shelf, taking care that not an inch of mirror was visible, and left his office surreptitiously. He would rather not be spotted.

All was going well until…

"Byakushi!"

He froze.

Not long after that scandalous nickname was uttered, Byakuya felt something land on his shoulders. Glancing up, he saw that it had a head with bubblegum pink hair stuck on it as with superglue, and was waving its arms around in wild ecstasy.

"You," he said with the hint of a groan.

"Byakushi!" cried Yachiru, hugging him around the neck in exhilaration (he nearly choked), and it was when her fingers touched a bony collarbone instead of the familiar, soft scarf that realization struck her, and she gasped the gasp of one who has spotted her lover with another woman.

"Where's your scarf?" she demanded in a high-pitched tone (even by her standards) that only accentuated Byakuya's sense of dread.

"I…" Byakuya began, unsure of what to say next. "It's… being laundered."

Yachiru gasped, and Byakuya knew she had reached the inevitable conclusion that he had so hoped she wouldn't reach.

"You mean…" she said with growing horror. "That you never washed it before? EWWWWW!"

She jumped off his shoulders and dashed off, screaming, "KENNY! I NEED A BATH!"

Byakuya was shaken, but not stirred. He decided to regard the situation from the standpoint of the optimist, and reasoned that he had successfully got rid of Yachiru, which was something he had always wanted to do.

But who was he kidding?

_I've just been… patronized by Lieutenant Kusajishi!_

He resisted the urge of slapping his forehead.

The urge came once again, but this time he didn't resist. It was only unfortunate that Rangiku happened to be passing by at that moment and saw him do this.

"Captain Kuchiki!" she yelped. She wondered if he had gone completely nuts. "Are you okay? And" – gasp – "where's your scarf? Don't tell me" – gasp – "that it's lost!"

Byakuya became momentarily dazed by the thought that Lieutenant Matsumoto could be so quick on the uptake. He passed it off as a stupid guess, and decided to forestall the indignity that he would inevitably incur if he said yes.

"That isn't true," said Byakuya with dignity. "It's at home, and I'm going to get it now."

"You've lost it, haven't you?" said Rangiku, with a giggle, and there was no mistaking the surety in her tone.

Byakuya sighed in defeat.

"How did you guess?"

"Because your house's the other way."

Byakuya mentally cursed himself. Where had he been going anyway? Oh, right. To have a talk with Yoruichi. Besides Renji, she was the only one who could have stolen his scarf.

"Where are you going?" said Rangiku.

"For a walk."

"Can I—?"

"_No_, you may not join me," said Byakuya firmly, and went his way, taking extra care to stick to the shadows so that he wasn't spotted by anyone.

It was by sheer coincidence that Ichigo Kurosaki was also sticking to the shadows at that time, trying to hide from a battle-hungry Zaraki.

"AAAAAAH!" he screamed as Byakuya bumped into him. "Oh, it's only you, Byakuya." He heaved a sigh of relief. But then: "Hey wait, where's your scarf?"

Byakuya's eyes narrowed.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he said. "What business do you have lurking around in the shadows at this time of the day? You're obviously up to no good."

"I could say the same about you."

Byakuya was lost for words.

"What is it you were doing anyway?" Ichigo asked. "Are you on the run from Kenpachi? If that's the case, then we'll stick together, okay? He's probably around here somewhere, and if it's both of us against him then—"

"I am not," said Byakuya. "I am… looking… for… Rukia. Have you seen Rukia, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Oh," said Ichigo, slightly disappointed that his best hope for an ally was being so recalcitrant. "She should be around here somewhere."

"Thank you for your help, Ichigo Kurosaki," said Byakuya sarcastically, and before he could say anything more, a surge of an all-too-familiar spiritual pressure was felt just around the corner.

"Oh, crap," said Ichigo. "Stay close, okay?" he added, reaching for Byakuya's arm in case he tried to pull the vanishing act on him.

And then Zaraki appeared around the corner and yelled jubilantly when he discovered Ichigo's miserable excuse for a hiding place.

"There you are, Ichigo!"

It was fruitless to deny it.

"Here I am," he said. "And here's Byakuya, too. You wouldn't wanna fight both of us at the same time, would you?"

"Ah!" said Zaraki, his face lighting up in a diabolical grin. But that was before he noticed Byakuya's scarf-less-ness, because when he did, his eyebrows rose two inches and became invisible in his hairline.

"Er, Kuchiki?" he said, a little uncertainly. "Is that really you?" The corners of his mouth were twitching slightly.

Byakuya coughed with dignity.

"Do you not recognize me?"

"Hell no," said Zaraki. "What the heck did you do with that piece of cloth you're always wearing round your neck?"

"A scarf, Captain Zaraki, it's called a scarf," said Byakuya, being deliberately patient. He was not in a mood for a fight; not when finding his scarf was his first priority.

Zaraki burst into laughter.

"You look like a pansy, Kuchiki," he said through bursts of laughter that echoed around every street and made it sound as if ten Zarakis were laughing at the same time. "A total pansy! Shit, I never knew you were _that _skinny underneath all those clothes."

Byakuya, who was feeling supremely insulted, began to walk away with clenched fists, forcing his mind to focus on anything but Zaraki and his incessant barrage of tactless remarks against his appearance.

_Don't think about it… Don't think about it… No… But… Senbonzakura… Bankai… Destroy the Eleventh Squad… Yes…_

They were appealing thoughts.

Byakuya had unconsciously unsheathed his Zanpakuto and was going through the familiar motion preparatory to releasing his Bankai. His spiritual pressure became elevated to a degree that got even Zaraki worried.

"Hey Kuchiki," he said. "It was only a joke, you know. I mean, I'd love to fight you now, but if we did my squad would be destroyed." He indicated the dojo nearby.

_I was trying to hide from him right outside his squad? _thought Ichigo disbelievingly, mentally kicking himself. But he knew then was the time to conciliate the provoked.

"Hey, Byakuya," he said, walking up to the infuriated captain and trying to placate him.

"Not now, Kurosaki, I'm busy," snapped Byakuya, realizing only a few moments later that his Zanpakuto was in fact still in its sheath and all the violence had taken place inside his head.

"I'll tell Kenpachi not to say anything about you, okay?" said Ichigo, jerking his thumb in the direction of a confused Zaraki. "What you need is some rest."

Byakuya realized that he did.

"I'm going home."

"Er, Byakuya," said Ichigo. "Your house is that way."

Uttering a curse that was familiar only the ears of the Nobility, Byakuya turned around and trudged in the direction of the Kuchiki manor.

Ichigo, meanwhile, after using a few tactful words to his advantage to send Zaraki going, went to check on the others of his group.

"U-Uryu!" he said incredulously as he ran into the Quincy, who was caressing an object sensuously and moaning in pleasure; an object that looked so much like…

"Byakuya's scarf!"

"Oh, hey Ichigo, how's it going?" said Uryu dreamily, looking up at Ichigo through half-lidded eyes. "Oh this? This has got to be the most wonderful thing that has ever been woven. It's so perfectly soft and silky; there isn't a hint of an imperfection anywhere. The very touch… Oooh it's driving me crazy!"

* * *

><p>AN: Originally published in 2009.


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